How Itachi got his Cutie Mark
by Omega19x
Summary: A cutie mark is the visual representation of one's destiny. When the Uchiha clan emblem appeared on Fugaku's flank, just as it did on his father's flank, the stallion knew it would be his destiny to take over as head of the clan. His son, he assumed, would share that destiny as well. But destiny, it seemed, had other ideas. - COMPLETE


[Disclaimer: I own neither of these series, but I did get an Itachi pony commissioned from an awesome artist at AnimeFest this year. Wherever you are, awesome artist, this story is for you!]

. . .

"Is it... are you absolutely sure, Mikoto?"

"I scrubbed and scrubbed until he started to cry, Fugaku." the mare sighed, the magic of her horn dropping a sponge at her mate's feet. "It really won't come off."

"Then it's really..."

"I'm afraid it is..."

. . .

A cutie mark is the visual representation of one's destiny. When the Uchiha clan emblem appeared on Fugaku's flank, just as it did on his father's flank, the stallion knew it would be his destiny to take over as head of the clan. His son, he assumed, would share that destiny as well. But destiny, it seemed, had other ideas.

. . .

It had been a bloody battle on both sides that day. But they had prevailed.

It was the destiny of a unicorn, one could suppose. Unicorn magic was powerful as well as destructive. Small nations of earth ponies sought after that power to help defend their right to exist. Large nations sought it to expand their borders. Unicorns were employed as tools, as weapons. It's how it always was and how it always would be.

Even though generations had passed since the era of warring states, Equestria was still a very unstable land. Clans of unicorns that once clashed with each other over simple conflicts had bound together in villages, and that brought peace... for a while. But now, it wasn't just clan fighting clan, it was village fighting village. The bloodshed and brutality of individual battles was nothing compared to the bitter reality of the third pony war. In the center of that war was the Uchiha clan.

The Uchiha clan had long been considered warhorses among ponies. Their magic was especially strong, extending beyond their horns and into their eyes, and it grew stronger through pain and adversity. Young Uchiha colts were thrust into that life at a very early age. In times of peace, they were to train rigorously. In times of war, if they could so much as gallop, they were to fight.

"Itachi?" Fugaku cried over the carnage. His horn glowed red as he lifted the fallen bodies of his comrades in search for his four-year-old son. "Itachi, can you hear me? Where are you?"

"Fugaku!" A slender grey mare finally shouted in return.

"Mikoto?"

"Over here!" She lifted a hoof, gesturing her husband toward a trench along the western front. "He's over here!"

Fugaku took off at a gallop, leaping between broken swords and bleeding horns.

"Is he hurt?"

"No, no... Just scared." She answered immediately, calming his fears. She gently nudged her young son with her muzzle. He was disheveled, more shaken than anything else. His short mane was caked with mud and the blood of enemy ponies was splattered across his body. But he was as Mikoto said, unhurt. "Come on, Itachi. The battle is over. You fought hard and you fought well..."

Itachi hesitantly opened one eye, and then the other. Both were red with the markings of their clan's power. That he had awakened such power so young had already made Fugaku very proud. He would make a fine heir and even finer warrior!

"Yes, you fought very well. The day is ours." he smiled, helping his boy off the ground. "Come... let's get you cleaned up."

. . .

Mikoto leaned against Fugaku as they watched their sleeping son. So exhausted from his first battle, he could barely lift his own hooves without help from her magic. Now, he tossed and turned, no doubt reliving much of the day in his young mind. Against his pale grey flank, the new cutie mark was impossible to miss.

Not an Uchiha symbol. Not the traditional emblem of the future clan leader. Just a stain. A splattering of blood that wouldn't come off no matter how hard she scrubbed. That was Itachi's destiny, though, at the time, neither could understand what it meant - not for them, for the clan, for the village, or even for Itachi himself.

All they knew was that it was time to have another baby.


End file.
